LBJohnson

Toddling around a 1/4 acre front yard, picking up pecans from under the pecan trees. One of them looks good. I kneel down on baby fatted knees. Crack it open. Ants spill out and crawl on my hands. I give a little scream and  jump back. It takes me several hours before I’m brave enough to try another. 

Walking in a neighbor’s field, eating a popsicle and following my brothers around. Mom goes to talk to the farmer. His goat walks up to me curiously, butts me to the ground. Mom sees and and runs over. Her blood runs cold as she sees me lying in the tall grass with red on my mouth. I look up at her with wide eyes and bring the cherry popsicle back up to my mouth.

Trying to go to sleep in my bed and look over at the wood paneling on the walls. There’s a face there staring at me. Mom comes to tuck me in and I don’t tell her. Roll from side to side all night and peek at it. Sometimes it looks mean and sometimes it’s my buddy. Next day I’m exhausted and my mom thinks I’m sick. I get pampered and I know I did the right thing not telling her about the wall face.